5 Times Jake Lied About Himself
by angellwings
Summary: ...and 1 time told the truth. From a tumblr prompt I received.


**A/N:** This was a prompt on tumblr and I posted it in my tumblr prompts collection on Ao3, but I thought I would post it by itself here. So enjoy!

Happy Reading!

angellwings

**_5 Times Jake Lied About Himself..._**

**_and 1 Time He didn't_**

_Or_

_Jake Stone: How I learned to stop lying and love who I really am_

_(digital cookie to any of you who get the movie reference in the alternate title.)_

**by angellwings**

* * *

**One**

* * *

He was nine years old the first time he realized being smart wasn't 'cool'. It started out very simply and not with Keane, DeGas, or Munch. No, it started with a spelling bee. He'd won the school spelling bee and he'd been so proud of himself. And then he'd won the county spelling bee and the next step was the state. The other kids at school had been excited and asking him to spell things at random. Before his classmates realized there were such things as jocks, nerds, and goths he was actually proud of what he knew.

But the night before the spelling bee he'd heard his dad ranting to his mother.

Looking back, his fathers words had slurred slightly, which, he would later realize meant bitter insults were on the way. But, nine year old, Jake just heard his father, who was, for lack of a better word, his hero.

"Kid needs to spend a little less time reading and little more time playing sports, I think," his dad grumbled. "I'm gonna have a soft, weak, egg headed son who's gonna be chewed up and spat out when it's his time to run the rig. You think those guys I got out there would listen to a teacher's pet? Hell no."

"Tom," his mother had said patiently. "He enjoys it. He's smart. There is nothing wrong with him being-"

"No, not a thing, but does the whole damn state have to know?" He spat. "Kids gonna get beat up on the playground. It's embarrassing."

"Alright," his mother snapped. "You're done. Go upstairs and go to bed."

"Next year," his father said angrily. "You make that kid play football. You hear me? I don't care what he wants. I'm not raising a know-it-all geek. Ain't nobody on any rig gonna listen to that."

He'd sat up the rest of the night, wondering what he should do. He enjoyed learning and reading. Even at nine he knew the world was bigger than Oklahoma. But, his eyes watered and he took a deep breath, he was not soft. He was strong. He glared at his County spelling bee trophy on his night stand. He was not weak. He was not a teacher's pet. He picked up the trophy and threw it in his trash can. The next day he faked sick and spent the day in bed.

* * *

**Two**

* * *

Jake Stone hated middle school. The kids were cruel and only looked out for themselves. The teachers were apathetic and the coaches paid zero attention to anything. He wondered if all middle schools were like this or just his. His history class was terribly boring too. He learned all of this stuff ages ago and now he had to pretend like he didn't already know that the first railroad in Oklahoma was the Missouri-Kansas-Texas, nicknamed Katy.

"Katy began in 1868 and was the first railroad our state would see."

Or he thought he was going to pretend he didn't know it. His hand was up before he could stop himself. The teacher just had to get it wrong. Mr. Willis quirked a brow at him and acknowledged his hand. "Yes, Jake?"

"Actually Katy started in 1870, sir."

The teacher blinked at him and then glanced down at his notes. "Well, Mr. Stone, you're right. I was mistaken. It was 1870."

The girls around him giggled and gave him critical looks and his football teammates in the class furrowed their brows at him. He felt the need to justify himself. "My, uh, grandmother was a member of the Katy Railroad Historical Society. She, um, rambles a lot." They didn't know it was a lie and he wasn't going to tell them.

The kids nodded and the teacher gave him a strange look. "Well, thanks for sharing, Mr. Stone. Do you mind if I return to the lesson?"

"Oh! Uh, no sir. Sorry."

"You had me worried there for a minute, dude," his friend, Grant, said with a smirk. "Thought we'd lost you to the geeks."

"Yeah, no worries there," he responded with a sigh.

* * *

**Three**

* * *

By High School Jake knew how to play his role effortlessly. No more slip ups in class. His knowledge stayed safely inside his own mind. He made good grades but was sure not to get the attention of the teachers. He worked hard at athletics to earn the praise of the coaches. More for his father's peace of mind than his own, though. He kept his book collection hidden under his bed and his favorite art portfolios were hidden in the back of his closet. He cleared his browsing history at the end of every day so that no one knew he was posting articles on artists and their work to various websites. His pen name was so well hidden that no one would ever associate it with him...unless they were equally as smart as him, that is.

The school day had ended an hour and a half ago and his football practice had just ended fifteen minutes ago. He was walking through the locker room after a shower to reach his clothes and get dressed when he heard his coach talking to his father. What was his dad doing there? This didn't make any sense.

"Dan, you only played him for one quarter last game! He's too good to sit on the-"

"That one quarter is more than some of those boys have played the whole season. Besides, Tommy, your boy works really hard at it, don't get me wrong, but his hearts just not in it. If you ask me, he only plays because you want him to."

"That is not true! My boy has wanted to play football his whole life. It's a Stone family tradition and he's looked forward to it since he was 9 years old. And now you're sidelining him like some Junior Varsity freshman."

Jake tried to back away from the office door but he'd bumped into a trashcan and caused a loud clatter. His dad peeked out the door and smiled brightly at him. "Jake, son, get in here, will ya?"

Jake bit back a groan and followed his dad into the office. He nodded at his coach and tried not to give him an apologetic look. He didn't think he succeeded.

"Tell your coach here how much you love football, kid," Tom Stone said with a grin. "He thinks your hearts not in it. Have you given him any reason to think that, Jacob?"

Jacob plastered a smile on his face and forced a laugh. "No, dad. No way. Football is my life. Nothing else matters."

His dad nodded proudly. "Except for the rig, football is his life. You heard him. Now, I expect to see him out on that field more. You can't let an arm like his go to waste. Can you, Coach?"

Coach Dan sighed and nodded. "No, Tommy, I guess we can't."

* * *

**Four**

* * *

"Jacob," a voice called as he walked through the halls.

Jake winced and turned to find his guidance counselor standing outside of his office.

"Do you have a minute to talk, son?"

Mr. Grant had been asking to talk to Jacob a lot since the start of senior year. Each time he had to find an excuse as to why he couldn't make it.

"Don't say you have football practice. The season ended last week."

Jake groaned and then nodded. "Yeah, okay, I got time, Mr. Grant."

"Good, good," he said with a smile. "Why don't you step on inside my office." Jake already didn't like this. He sat down across from Mr. Grant's desk and the man joined him with a thick folder in his hand. "So, I know we've already talked about college-"

"I'm not going to college, Mr. Grant."

"Yes, I heard you the first time. You're staying here to help your dad with the oilrig. I remember," Mr. Grant said with a heavy sigh. "And since we're in the second half of the year, you'd have to be very committed to start applying now. Clearly, you're not."

Jake nearly winced at the disappointment in his tone.

"But, I thought, you might like to have these to send in with your applications in the event that you change your mind," Mr. Grant said as he handed him the folder.

Jake's brow furrowed and he hesitantly took the folder. He stared at it for a long time before he finally opened it. He gulped and shot a panicked look at Mr. Grant. It was his articles. All of his articles.

"You're very talented, Mr. Stone. You shouldn't let it go to waste."

"I-these, these aren't mine," he lied.

Mr. Grant quirked a brow at him but didn't argue. "I know, Mr. Stone. But if they were, I'd want you to know that you should be very proud of them. They're extremely brilliant and, should you decide to advance your learning, any institution would be lucky to have you."

"Thank you, sir," Jake said with a small smile. "But, unfortunately, these aren't mine."

"Then I guess this meeting is over," Mr. Grant said with a sigh. "If you ever find the person who wrote them, though, let him know he's got a fan. Okay?"

"Yes, sir," Jake said with a nod before he quickly left Mr. Grant's office.

* * *

**Five**

* * *

He's still doing it. Still lying to everyone. Even Mr. Grant, who helped him get his work published, had yet to hear Jake actually claim his writing. He'd never left. Never been away from home, really. He'd picked up his dad's slack on the rig after graduation and that had been it for him. Jake Stone was a hometown hero, loyal son, and a company man. That was all he would ever be.

"Hey, man," his friend, Dale, said as he handed him a beer.

"Hey," Jake said with a small smile.

Dale motioned to the TV in his living room and sighed contentedly. "This is the life, isn't it? Good game, good beer, good friends. We're living the dream, man. Living the dream."

Jake forced a smile and nodded. It was beginning to be hard for him to tell if any of his smiles were real anymore. "Yeah," he said before he took a long sip of his beer. "Living the dream," he lied.

But not his dream.

* * *

**One Time He Told the Truth**

* * *

Well, of course the Golden Fleece had ended up in Jake's hometown. Where else would it be? And, of course, Mr. Grant would have it. He was the smartest man in the whole town and the only one that hadn't lived there his whole life. He'd been hiding it, protecting it, keeping magical civilizations from fighting over it for thousands of years. _Thousands of years_. He was at least as old as Jenkins.

And, _of course_, The Serpent Brotherhood couldn't let him keep it. They wanted a magical war and to expose magic to the world. What better way than to obtain the most famous symbol of power in all of mythology? So, he'd been forced to bring his work home with him. And not just his work, his friends, his first real friends in years. There'd been chaos and lots of running and copious amounts of awkwardness between The Librarians and his family.

And then Jenkins had seen Mr. Grant. His eyes went wide for a moment before he smiled brightly and embraced him.

"Griflet!" Jenkins exclaimed joyously.

The Librarians all exchanged shocked looks as the two men laughed and shook hands and embraced. Jake's eyes widened as he remembered his research into Arthurian lore. Griflet was a Knight of the Round Table. Arguably, the one who was closest to Arthur and who originally had the task of giving Excalibur back to the Lady of the Lake. Mr. Grant was a Knight of the Round Table?

"Holy shit," Jake said in disbelief. "You gotta be kidding me? My high school guidance counselor was one of King Arthur's Knights?"

"And one of my students became a Librarian," Mr. Grant said with a chuckle. "I suppose your surprise is greater than mine. I knew you were destined for great things, Mr. Stone."

Jake blinked at him and couldn't seem to get it through his head. Magic had been in his life for that many years before The Library and he'd never known it? Flynn had dismissed fate, even after the incident at The Loom, but Jake wasn't so certain. Could the Fates really be playing with his life like this?

The four of them left the high school and headed toward Jake's parent's house on the outskirts of town. It was far enough out of town that they could see The Serpent Brotherhood coming and it was defensible, according to Eve. She and Flynn were camped out there, formulating a strategy and researching. Jenkins headed back to the Back Door, which was down the hall from Mr. Grant's office. He was going to relocate the door to Stone's family's house. So the Annex was going to be parked there along with The Librarians and two Knights of Camelot.

Yeah, okay, his family wouldn't notice that would they? He asked himself as he felt panic rising in his chest. Oh God, every single lie he'd told through his life was running through his head. This was all going to blow up in his face. Right now. _Right freaking now._

"Jake!" His dad bellowed as they pulled up to the house in his truck. "Who the hell are all of these people in my house?"

"Tom!" His mother yelled with a glare. "They're his friends! Be nice."

"His friends who use a glowing globe holographic map thingamajig and talk about what they can use to keep us from being attacked by some Community of the Snake? There's more to the story than that, Betty," His dad said as he narrowed his gaze on Jake. "What have you been up to since you been at that Oil Refinery in Texas, boy?"

"Dad, now is not the time. We've got bad guys on our tail and they're closing in awful quick," Jake said as he prayed for patience.

"No, we're gonna talk about this right damn now, son. You bring a bunch of freaks home and we're just supposed to take it? I want answers and I want 'em now. And as soon as I get 'em you can take your thief and the freak who sees math and get the hell out of my house—"

"Oh, just shut the hell up," Jake snapped as he glanced back and Ezekiel and Cassandra to see if they were okay. He expected Cassandra to look like a wounded bird but what he saw on her face was pure anger.

"_Excuse me_, Mr. Stone," Cassandra said with a cool glare. "I understand that you have no idea who your son is, but I would hope you would treat him with more respect than that. He's saved your life, all of our lives, more times than anyone can count."

Jake's eyes widened at her and he smiled thankfully. Ezekiel approached his dad without hesitation and offered his hand to shake.

"Listen, mate, we didn't mean to intrude on your space. But we've got a nearly apocalyptic crisis on our hands and your place is the best place to tackle it. Jake wouldn't have us here if there were any other options. Seems he's a bit concerned about telling you the truth, and having met you, well, I can't say I blame him," Jones said with a deceivingly pleasant smile. "How a stand up guy like him ever walked out of this house I'll never understand."

His dad glared at the hand that was offered and knocked it away. "You don't know anything."

Ezekiel shrugged. "I know enough."

Cassandra drifted closer to Jake as Ezekiel came back to join them. Jake smiled at the two of them gratefully and squared his shoulders.

"Dad," he said with a smirk. "These aren't just my friends, these are my coworkers."

"These two ain't ever stepped on a rig in their life—"

"Not coworkers from the rig," Jake interrupted him. "My coworkers at The Library. Yes, I work at a Library. An insane, wonderful, impossible Library that houses some of the most dangerous magical artifacts in the world."

"You've gone off your rocker," his dad said with a furrowed brow.

Jake laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm not crazy." He paused and then shrugged. "Okay, maybe a little crazy. I don't think sane people voluntarily fight mummies and trained killers. But I'm more than that. I'm a _genius_. I have an IQ of 190 and write books and essays about Art History that are used in classrooms and universities around the world. If I'd been honest with you in high school I would have preferred to take AP courses instead of playing football and I would have loved to go to college and I _hate_ working on the oilrig. I hate it. And, you know, it's taken me a few years of hiding it to figure out that I don't give _damn_ what you think about it. It's about time I started living my life for me."

Applause sounded from behind them and Jake turned to see Mr. Grant beaming at him. "Oh I've been waiting to hear you say that for years, kiddo. That was just as satisfying as I always imagined it."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we have to go save you and everyone else in this town," Jake said finally. He motioned for Cassandra, Ezekiel, and Mr. Grant to go on ahead of him and then stopped and stepped into his father's personal space. "And don't _ever_ call my friends freaks again. These people are the best people I've ever met in my life, they're like family to me and I will not tolerate them being insulted. _By anyone_."

"You've changed, son," His dad said with a frustrated sigh.

"No, I haven't. Not really. You just never knew me," Jake told him as he followed his friends to the house. His dad would either come around or he wouldn't. But whatever happened now, had no effect on how Jake lived his life. For the first time, maybe ever, he felt satisfied. Relief washed over him and, despite the fact that they were about to face down the Serpent Brotherhood, he smiled. Genuinely smiled. He _knew _it would be the first of many.


End file.
